


the ties that hold us together

by Muir_Wolf



Category: Big Bang Theory
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-08
Updated: 2012-08-08
Packaged: 2017-11-11 18:04:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/481331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Muir_Wolf/pseuds/Muir_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High School AU; <i>They know each other better than most anyone else, though, which means they’ve always had a particular skill for going right for each others weakest spots. Wil </i>is<i> on the verge of failing physics, and his teacher told him earlier this week that unless he brought his grade up, he was going to be ineligible for any extracurricular activities. Including the play.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	the ties that hold us together

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notalwaysweak](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notalwaysweak/gifts).



Wil scuffs his beat-up converse on the ground. The sun’s beating down on his neck just above his shirt collar, and he rolls his head a little trying to clear away the beginning of a headache. He checks the time on his phone, but there’s still another ten minutes until rehearsal starts. He only has five periods this year, so he’s always stuck waiting.

He shifts on the bench, staring glumly at the physics textbook laid out on the table in front of him. He likes scifi, but science itself is more than a little discouraging. Finally he gives up the pretense of studying and shoves the book back in his backpack, feeling immediately lighter as he zips it back up. He’ll finish it tonight after rehearsal—maybe call up Stuart and see if he can sweet-talk some of the answers out of him.

“Giving up already?” Sheldon drawls from behind him. Wil scrunches his nose up, and rubs a hand through his already disheveled hair.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out in the sunlight,” Wil sneers. “Thought you were some gross monster hiding in the library.”

“At least I’m not about to fail physics,” Sheldon says stiffly. The two boys glare at each other.

Seniors, now, they’ve been classmates since they shared the same kindergarten class. They’d been best friends, then, but a huge fight in middle school broke them up, and since then they’ve been at each others throats. Sheldon seems convinced that Wil set out to betray him, and Wil’s always been a bit too bitter at Sheldon’s lack of trust to even consider trying to patch things up.

They know each other better than most anyone else, though, which means they’ve always had a particular skill for going right for each others weakest spots. Wil _is_ on the verge of failing physics, and his teacher told him earlier this week that unless he brought his grade up, he was going to be ineligible for any extracurricular activities. Including the play.

“Whatever,” Wil says, standing up and throwing his bag over his shoulder. “I’ve got rehearsal. Have fun hiding by yourself in your room.”

Sheldon has a few close friends, but this last year they’ve all paired off into relationships. Oh, they all still hang out, but Wil’s seen Sheldon alone more often than not. He’s taken a certain vindictive pleasure in that, in fact, even if makes him a little ashamed. Whatever, it’s high school, they’re teenagers, they’re not supposed to be perfect.

Besides, only a few more months left here, and then Wil’s out of here. He’s got it all planned out, from where he’s going to stay in LA (his aunt and uncle have a spare room he can crash in until he gets a job and can start paying them rent), he’s picked out the online college he’s going to get a degree from (it’s not the best for a resume, but it’s his best chance at getting some education and still going after his dreams), and he’s got retail experience, so hopefully he’ll be able to get a job while he’s going to auditions. He’s not too proud to work at a fast food joint; he’s willing to do the heavy lifting if it gets him what he wants.

Which is something that Sheldon would never understand. Only reason he’s still in high school is that his mom refused to let him skip grades, but he’s fluent in like three languages and has already got a fucking theoretical paper published. He’s got full tuition offers from half a dozen top-notch schools. He’s that genius kid that doesn’t have to worry about his future at all—it’s all practically laid out in front of him.

And Wil—well, Wil’s scrappy, he is, but he also _wants_ with an ache he doesn’t always understand. So maybe he’s a bastard to Sheldon sometimes. He deserves it.

 

 

Rehearsal is the best part of Wil’s day.

He colors in the white spots on his converse with a black sharpie as he watches Penny and Zack go through their scene, and then he’s back on stage. He’s the lead, and it’s good to know that it’s not just pity-casting the senior, that he actually deserves it. Worked for it.

They’re restarting Act 2 after Raj fucked up the lights, when Wil notices Sheldon watching from the shadows of the very back row. It almost throws him, but Wil’s got practice at holding it together, and he sticks his lines, even though his tone’s a little off.

It’s—when they were kids, Sheldon would often come and lurk at whatever community play Wil’d sweet-talked his way into. It brings back all those pesky feelings like affection when he catches a glimpse of him, at his hand tangled in his messenger bag strap because he’s never been able to manage a regular backpack.

He’s angry when he goes into the wings, but rehearsal’s the only place he can get out of his head, and he’s not about to let Sheldon fucking Cooper screw that up.

Afterward, he grabs his bag and jumps down the back stairs two at a time, fully prepared to confront him, but Sheldon’s already disappeared.

 

 

There are color-coded notes for physics in Wil’s locker, and a copy of the homework.

They’re both typed, so Wil can’t use the handwriting to figure out who they’re from. The first bell rings, though, so he shoves it into his history binder and spends the next class copying it out by hand so his teacher isn’t tipped off.

 

 

Two months to the end of school, Wil’s walking out to his car when he sees Sheldon backing away from two of the football players. He swears under his breath angrily—Sheldon’s always had problems with bullies over the years, and back when they were still friends Wil had gone home with a bloody nose more than once after leaping to Sheldon’s defense. He always was a stupid kid.

Once they’d started high school, Sheldon had gone and got himself a pack of friends, and bullies didn’t usually go after groups. Especially not after Penny started hanging out with them—Penny’s hot and she’s never taken anyone’s shit, and anybody that wanted a fighting chance with her knew better than to fuck with her boys. She and Zack have been dating off and on this semester, though, and she hasn’t been around Sheldon’s gang as much, hanging with the drama rats instead. Evidently Sheldon’s been declared free game.

Wil tips his head back, looking up at the blue sky for a long moment. He wishes, for a moment, that he actually was the asshole that Sheldon seems to think he is, because that asshole would definitely leave Sheldon to get his butt kicked.

Wil compromises, and tips off Principal Siebert, instead. Siebert swears and takes off running, and Wil watches with soft amusement. It should amaze him that Sheldon’s ever managed to get people to care about him, insufferable prick that he is, but he knows Sheldon better than that. Always has.

 

 

The physics notes keep appearing in his locker for every new section, although there hasn’t been any more copies of homework since that first day. The notes are helping, though—he’s got his grade up to a square C, and he’s no longer in danger of getting kicked out of the play.

Some afternoons he sprawls out in the grass during his free period, and puts headphones in as he goes over the notes. There’s always a lot of references to science fiction books and tv shows and movies that he loves, and they help him make sense of all of it.

He starts trailing Sheldon after school when he catches a few jocks going after him again.

He counts down the days to the end of the year.

He has a yard sale, and gets rid of everything he can, saving every penny for gas for the trip. He has to quit his weekend job at the movie rental place when rehearsals pick up as the show gets closer.

 

 

He keeps spotting Sheldon at rehearsals.

 

 

It’s not that he hasn’t suspected where the notes are coming from, but he’s kind of purposefully been avoiding asking the question. He gets to school early one morning, though, and sure enough, Sheldon’s sliding them through the top of his locker.

Wil almost turns around and pretends he didn’t see it, but. Whatever Sheldon might think, he’s not that guy.

“Hey,” he says, walking closer. Sheldon flinches back, wide eyes flicking between Wil and Wil’s locker. “Something you want to tell me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Sheldon says stiffly. As if Wil would ever buy that. That’s the thing about Sheldon, though, he’s never allowed himself to be that imaginative. Wil was good for him that way.

“Why did you suddenly decide to start helping me?” Wil asks. He doesn’t know why he suddenly sounds angry, but he does. It’s as if everything from that stupid fight all those years ago is suddenly bubbling up to the surface, and he just—

Hell if he knows what he wants.

Sheldon crosses his arms across his chest, a trapped look in his eyes.

“You were going to fail physics,” he says. As if that’s possibly explanation enough.

“Don’t pretend like you care,” Wil sneers. Sheldon glares a little at that.

“Like you haven’t been trying to fend off half the football team for me?” Sheldon bites back, and Wil can feel his cheeks flush despite himself.

“That was after you helped me!” Wil growls.

“You didn’t know I was helping you!” Sheldon yells.

Wil shoves him in the chest. Sheldon shoves him back.

And then, because their luck has only ever been bad, Principal Siebert walks by and sends them off to separate corners of the school.

 

 

Opening night is three days later, and they keep their distance in the meantime.

And then somehow it’s only a few minutes left before the curtain goes out, and Wil’s peeking through the curtains and riding that familiar rush of terror and adrenaline and excitement, and in the very front row he sees Sheldon, and all of Sheldon’s friends, and Sheldon’s clutching one long red rose in his fists like he’s fully prepared to snap it right in half.

So that does _wonders_ for Wil’s nerves.

(He still completely nails it.)

By the time the curtain falls and they go out for their bows, there’s a new anxiety creeping through Wil’s veins. They all stumble over each other going down the side stairs into the audience, hugging family and friends, but Wil lags behind them.

And then he’s standing at the bottom, on the last step, trying to figure out where to go, who to see, what to say.

“Hi,” Sheldon says, stepping up to him.

“Hi,” Wil says, trying to ignore the unsteadiness in his voice.

Sheldon thrusts the rose at him.

“Can we start again?” he asks.

Wil will blame it on the stage high later, but he hops down the last step, tangles a fist in Sheldon’s shirt, and pulls him in for a kiss.

Sheldon responds with an unexpected degree of enthusiasm.

  


__

_Finis_


End file.
